‘And when she is cured,’ said Miss Madden, ’she shall come and live with me.  And when baby is about two years old we will do what we have been purposing for a long time.  We will open a school for young children, either here or at Weston.  That will afford my poor sister occupation.  Indeed, we shall both be better for the exertion of such an undertaking—­don’t you think so?’

‘It would be a wise thing, I have no doubt whatever.’

The large house was to be abandoned, and as much of the furniture as seemed needful transported to a smaller dwelling in another part of Clevedon.  For Alice resolved to stay here in spite of painful associations.  She loved the place, and looked forward with quiet joy to the life that was prepared for her.  Widdowson’s books would go back to London; not to the Hampstead lodgings, however.  Fearful of solitude, he proposed to his friend Newdick that they should live together, he, as a man of substance, bearing the larger share of the expense.  And this plan also came into execution.

* * *

Three months went by, and on a day of summer, when the wooded hills and green lanes and rich meadows of Clevedon looked their best, when the Channel was still and blue, and the Welsh mountains loomed through a sunny haze, Rhoda Nunn came over from the Mendips to see Miss Madden.  It could not be a gladsome meeting, but Rhoda was bright and natural, and her talk as inspiriting as ever.  She took the baby in her arms, and walked about with it for a long time in the garden, often murmuring, ‘Poor little child!  Dear little child!’ There had been doubt whether it would live, but the summer seemed to be fortifying its health.  Alice, it was plain, had found her vocation; she looked better than at any time since Rhoda had known her.  Her complexion was losing its muddiness and spottiness; her step had become light and brisk.

‘And where is your sister?’ inquired Miss Nunn.

’Staying with friends at present.  She will be back before long, I hope.  And as soon as baby can walk we are going to think very seriously about the school.  You remember?’

‘The school?  You will really make the attempt?’

‘It will be so good for us both.  Why, look,’ she added laughingly, ‘here is one pupil growing for us!’

‘Make a brave woman of her,’ said Rhoda kindly.

’We will try—­ah, we will try!  And is your work as successful as ever?’

‘More!’ replied Rhoda.  ’We flourish like the green bay-tree.  We shall have to take larger premises.  By-the-bye, you must read the paper we are going to publish; the first number will be out in a month, though the name isn’t quite decided upon yet.  Miss Barfoot was never in such health and spirit—­nor I myself.  The world is moving!’

Whilst Miss Madden went into the house to prepare hospitalities, Rhoda, still nursing, sat down on a garden bench.  She gazed intently at those diminutive features, which were quite placid and relaxing in soft drowsiness.  The dark, bright eye was Monica’s.  And as the baby sank into sleep, Rhoda’s vision grew dim; a sigh made her lips quiver, and once more she murmured, ‘Poor little child!’